routine

I’m trying out new formats, new ideas, and new font. Yesterday’s goal was to document a day in my life. For visuals, i chose the random selection on my hipstamatic app to make it more exciting. It is the closest i’ll ever come to Russian Roulette. Now….

This was an exceptionally lucky day for breakfast. One egg over-easy and a whole wheat english muffin with some sriracha on the side, as always. The really lucky part was that my favorite plate, favorite fork, and favorite mug were all clean at the same time. I miiiight be a little OCD about mixing plate and mug patterns. Not that i won’t mix and match, but i really do prefer solid colors as not to interfere with the aesthetics of the food itself.

I should probably start making room on that plate for some selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors.

Yeah, i looked that up.

I apply some amount of makeup nearly every day. Probably 95% of the time. I keep playing with the idea of giving up these strange and sexist standards of beauty…. but then i remember that i’m already fat so i should probably not press my luck. Plus, i like makeup. It’s art. It’s like Monet. On my face.

And just in case you never had a MySpace, THIS is what it looked like:

There is a deadly serious hair flip about to take place here.

Whenever i wear the I ❤ ❤ TWINS t-shirt, i find out just how many twins live in the Charlotte area. A lot. EVERYONE stops and asks if i’m a twin, or if i have twins. I should just start lying. I have obviously created the perfect opportunity to concoct a fictitious evil twin. (<—oh yesh, next blog challenge. I’m ON IT.) As it is, i always feel like it vaguely references my breasts… which seems… strange.

I had no idea when i snapped that shot that i would catch Bigfoot waiting for the bus.

Once i arrived at work…

…i check in with Maile (pronounced MILEY, as in Cyrus. Not MAIL or MILE) to make sure there is no important gossip to cover. However, the placement of an old show poster, makes it seem as though i’m throwing a slur at her.

But it’s ok. I’m pretty sure she’s heard that before.

And this is my life….

I have lists galore. Props lists, such as this, control my life. My greatest thrill is beginning each day by marking through the bits i’ve accomplished, compiling an updated list, ripping the old list out of my notebook, crumpling it into a ball, and throwing it on the floor. It’s very cathartic.

Speaking of cathartic…

Three months ago, i sat in my bright and cheery yellow office and cried. Just when the weeping had reached its peak, my boss walked in. Trying to hide my tears was useless. He asked if i was ok several times. I said yes several times. The next day i walked in to find flowers and this balloon. Three. Months. Ago.

This balloon contains the secret to hoverboards. I’m pretty sure.

And this is………..
…. MY EVIL TWIN!!!!!

Wigs are fun… …but for someone who isn’t really qualified, i’ve been forced to do quite a bit of wig styling in my days as a stage manager.

This part of the rehearsal process involves a lot a sitting for me.
Yep. Still sitting.

Although i’ve been trying to cut back, this is commonly the last thing i see before falling asleep. I’ve really got to move the TV out of the bedroom again. TVs in bedrooms are really horrible. When i’m single, i act like a hermit and barricade myself into my room. When i’m not single, i’ll watch the tv to distract my brain so that i don’t find myself inciting conflict, because i just want to ignore it so that my feelings aren’t further hurt. See, it’s all the TV’s fault. BAD, TV, BAD.

But i eventually settle into bed.

I look a little too apprehensive for sleep. Maybe it’s because i’m afraid of smothering beneath that giant mass of hair. I should really do something about that before THIS happens:

I'm a grown woman who works in the arts, so i am allowed to be immature and have people call it "quirky" and "creative". I'm a stage manager for a theatre company, so i meet a lot of interesting people with egos of all sizes. I like to write. It's fun. It's theraputic. It keeps me from going postal.